


it's hard to volleyball

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watched Tsukishima a few more times before exhaling. “You’re still doing it wrong.” </p><p>Tsukishima stopped in the middle of a throw and turned to him, eyes like flints behind the glass. “Fuck off, Kageyama.”</p><p>Kageyama gritted his teeth and took his messenger bag off his shoulder. “Do you want me,” he said slowly, each word only brought forth by a mental image of Daichi’s disappointed face, “to show you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's hard to volleyball

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimers: the gdoc for this fic is called "not as trash as it could be". also, i don't know _anything_ about volleyball. this was all written at different 2 ams this week. thanks to bishop for looking over it.

“Why don’t you _understand_?” Kageyama threw the volleyball away, and it hit the floor with a smack. “I’ve shown it to you dozens of times, so just _do it!”_

“We don’t all work like you, King,” Tsukishima sneered, sweat dripping from his chin onto the ball he was holding, knuckles white. “Can’t you reconcile your royal genius with the ignorance of us commoners?”

“Stop it, both of you,” Daichi said, frowning. “Honestly, you’re teammates. Try to find another way to explain it, Kageyama.”

“There _isn’t,”_ Kageyama snapped. “I give up. Hinata, come with me!”

Hinata looked over from where he was practicing receives with Nishinoya and shook his head. “Your face is scary,” he said. “I’m staying here.”

“Fine,” Kageyama gritted out, and left the gym.

He walked around to calm down, passing by the vending machines. The garden areas around the school were almost empty, and as he paced, the sun inched closer and closer to the horizon. A lot of angry walking and two milk boxes later, he was still fuming. How dare that Tsukishima blame him for not explaining well enough? He was the one who didn’t understand! Kageyama kicked at the ground, chewing at the straw in his mouth. He’d explained it in every way he could, even trying to avoid the 'whoosh's and the 'fwuah's, and Tsukishima still wasn’t doing it right. If Kageyama ever wanted to be a trusted member of the team, he knew he had to learn to convey his ideas to the rest of them - although Daichi understood his tactical suggestions, actual moves was still beyond everyone but Hinata. Kageyama sighed, drinking glumly from his carton. He should go back to help clean up the gym and apologise to Daichi. Was this the tantrum that made Karasuno give up on him? Kageyama had promised himself he’d try to get along with them - he didn’t ever want to experience a lonely court again.

Just when he’d argued himself into giving up and going home for the day, he noticed that he was missing his bag - it had to still be in the gym.

He threw his milk box in the trash with a lot more force than necessary. Maybe if he waited, the gym would be empty… or maybe Hinata had picked it up for him? Kageyama shook his head. The gym would be locked if it was empty, and there wouldn’t be any point in Hinata taking it.

He exhaled sharply. Back to the original plan, then: he’d go to the gym and apologise for his outburst. Kageyama squared his shoulders resolutely and started marching towards the gym.

From a distance, he could see the lights were still on, but it sounded completely empty. Had someone forgotten…?

No, there was still one person there, Kageyama realised, stopping by the door. Tsukishima was alone, a determined scowl on his face as he threw the volleyball, expression tensing further every time he missed his mark. He still didn’t stop trying, and Kageyama stood there, watching.

Finally, Tsukishima spotted him - he started, the ball he’d just picked up slipping from his sweaty grasp and rolling to a standstill in front of Kageyama. Automatically, Kageyama picked it up and passed it back to him. Tsukishima received it easily.

“What do _you_  want?” he asked testily, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Kageyama’s neck went red, and he fought the urge to scratch it. “I just came back for my bag,” he snapped, heading over to the storage room.

Tsukishima huffed and turned his back to him.

When Kageyama came back out, he had returned to practicing - although the way he handled the ball seemed a lot more lifeless than it had earlier. It pissed Kageyama off. If Tsukishima _could_  give a damn - and Kageyama knew he could - why didn’t he? You have to give every practice, every game your all - that was the fundament of sports, and of winning!

He watched Tsukishima a few more times before exhaling. “You’re still doing it wrong.”

Tsukishima stopped in the middle of a throw and turned to him, eyes like flints behind the glass. “Fuck off, Kageyama.”

Kageyama gritted his teeth and took his messenger bag off his shoulder. “Do you want me,” he said slowly, each word only brought forth by a mental image of Daichi’s disappointed face, “to show you?”

Tsukishima lowered his arms. He adjusted his glasses. Slowly, and with great reluctance, he held the ball out to Kageyama.

Kageyama took it and tossed it into the air, checking the feel of it, then he executed the move Tsukishima had been working on, elegantly and effortlessly. He passed the ball back to Tsukishima. “Your turn.”

Tsukishima sighed and raised his arms -

“Stop,” Kageyama said, frowning. He moved closer. “Your posture is all wrong, you can’t get the right spin when you’re standing like this.”

“How am I supposed to be standing, then?” Tuskishima bit out.

“Stop tensing your left arm,” Kageyama said. He was almost toe to toe with Tsukishima now, and he adjusted Tsukishima’s arm automatically. “You need to keep it here, right now it’s too high - you need to account for your height - “

“I was copying you, like you said,” Tsukishima said. Kageyama looked up at him.

“I thought you’d adjust it automatically.”

Tsukishima looked away, cheeks a little red.

“Look at me,” Kageyama said, and waited until Tsukishima met his eyes again. He lifted Tsukishima’s right hand, guiding it through the air. “You just put the ball where you want it. Then you let it follow the arc.”

He was still holding onto Tsukishima’s arms, stretching the right one so far he had to stand on his toes to reach properly. This put him almost on eye-height with Tsukishima, and Tsukishima’s face was so close -

Kageyama stumbled back, Tsukishima letting go of the ball as soon as Kageyama stopped touching him.

“Anyway,” Kageyama said, staring intently at the volleyball on the floor, cheeks red, “that’s how you do it.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima said after a pause. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Good.” Kageyama chanced a look up at him - Tsukishima was half-turned away, and he looked a little flustered.

There was a beat, then he rolled his shoulders and guided the ball like Kageyama had been trying to get him to. The ball hit the ground with a satisfying thud, exactly where it should be.

Kageyama let out a whoop, all awkwardness forgotten, while Tsukishima tried to hide an involuntary smile. “You got it!”

“Alright,” Tsukishima said, picking the ball back up, “now let’s go home.”

“Don’t even pretend you’re unaffected,” Kageyama said accusingly. “You love this game.”

Tsukishima looked at him over his shoulder, still smiling slightly. “It could be worse.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i will almost definitely write something a little less pre- than this at some point. (cry with me about the lack of kagetsuki on [tumblr](http://asexualtobio.tumblr.com).)


End file.
